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Authors: Kim Boykin

BOOK: A Peach of a Pair
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“And room and board,” I confirmed rather desperately.

He nodded, studying me. “Katie says you’re taking a leave of absence from the college. It’s a little late in the semester for that, isn’t it?”

“I assure you, Dr. Wilkes—”

“Remmy. Please.”

“Yes, it is late, but if that’s a concern, let me assure you, I’m a straight-A student with an impeccable record, and I’m extremely hardworking.”

He nodded, studying me, long fingers pressed together again. I hoped he was either too much of a gentleman to demand to know why I was leaving school or too anxious to fill the position to care.
“Look, Miss Gilbert, as much as I’d like to hire you, something tells me maybe this job isn’t for you. It’s going to be hard work, and I know the college is, well—” He actually smirked.

If he thought the diplomas behind him intimidated me, two belonging to him and two to his father, both from the College of Charleston and the medical college there, he was dead wrong. Even though there would be no sheepskin for me, I was proud of my school.

“Columbia College is not a glorified finishing school, if that’s what you’re implying, Dr. Wilkes.”

“With all due respect, Miss Gilbert, my sister is an alumna. Sidled up next to the army base and USC, not to mention its connection to Wofford, which as I’m sure you well know is all boys, the college is known for being a good place for a girl to get her MRS degree.”

“Maybe it was like that
way
back when you were in school,” I snapped, my backbone suddenly appearing.

He laughed, his eyes dancing with that same impish look I’d seen in his sister’s. “I’m sure you are quite capable, Miss Gilbert. I didn’t mean to insult you, and if I did, I’m truly sorry.” But I got the distinct feeling Remmy Wilkes liked riling me as much as he did his sister. “What say we ride over to Laurens Street, you meet the sisters, and if you still want the job, it’s yours.”

E
MILY

E
mily sat beside the bed for most of the day with the small embroidery hoop, working on a monogrammed pillowcase. Her sister’s face was peaceful, but Emily was taken aback by how very old
Lurleen looked. Yes, Sister had never looked after her appearance like Emily did. Not even when John was living. Now, her skin had a ghostly pallor and her gray hair, always unruly, even when they were girls, was even more so. The dark circles under her eyes that were still clear and beautiful, the prettiest azure blue, resembled spent tea bags. Matching lines above and below her lips looked as if invisible stitches had once sewn her mouth shut.

Emily’s chest squeezed tight as she pushed away the memory of Lurleen’s silence.

Glancing at the clock intermittently, Emily prayed the old girl would stay settled until well after four. She continued the neat, even stitches even though the tightness in her chest was still there. Maybe it was from thinking about Lurleen’s condition, her age, maybe it was from thinking about John. Something Emily hadn’t allowed herself to do in a long time, and, sitting next to her sister’s bed it felt wrong.

Emily rested the needle on the taut fabric and rubbed her eyes. Just a few minutes before the hour, Lurleen’s eyes were closed, her breathing almost normal.

Pushing herself out of the wingback, Emily laid the hoop in the chair, moved quietly to the door, and closed it behind her. She hurried down the hallway. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she was struck hard by how she looked nothing like her sister. A tight feeling gnawed at her heart.

For far too long, time had literally flown by. Lately, it seemed to have quickened its pace, unraveling what little Lurleen had left, and there was nothing Emily could do about it.

These days, it was the small comforts that kept Emily sane, kept her focused on the here and now. A good piece of saltwater taffy,
maybe a fine chocolate, her needlework, the little feral kitten she sometimes spied out back by the carriage house. She tuned the old radio to her favorite program, her guilty pleasure since it aired eighteen years ago, and sat down on the wingback, pulling the footstool from underneath. Propped up and comfortable, she allowed the announcer’s voice to sweep her away as he crooned the introduction to
Backstage Wife
.

Now, we present once again,
Backstage Wife
, the story of Mary Noble, a little Iowa girl who married one of America’s most handsome actors, Larry Noble, matinee idol of a million other women—the story of what it means to be the wife of a famous star.

Although Lurleen knew about Emily’s addiction, Emily would never admit to another soul how much she craved the story. Once, when their preacher chose the unholy hour of half past three in the afternoon for a visit, Emily hadn’t so much as offered him a glass of water, much less ice tea and a slice of pound cake or whatever sweet she happened to have on the cake plate that day. Emily didn’t want to be rude, but having a congregation full of women, the reverend should have known better than to visit during soap opera hours.

Although that particular pastor had preached against most everything good and worthwhile, including soap operas. There was nothing morally wrong with the program. On the contrary, each time a determined unprincipled vixen tried to get her claws into Larry Noble or an unscrupulous gentlemen pursued poor Mary, the couple always remained fiercely loyal to each other.

Emily closed her eyes as Mary made her daily declaration of love to her husband, hungry for his answer, the clever way Larry always romanced the words.

“Oh, darling,” his handsome voice crooned. “You’re so beautiful.
You walk into the room and I don’t see anyone but you. Why, I’m the luckiest guy in the world to hold you in my arms every day, Mary Noble. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Emily sighed, drifting away with his words.

When the doorbell rang, she awoke with a start to hear the monotone drone of the local farm report. Across the room, through the lace panel over the front door, Emily recognized the outline of Remmy Wilkes and a woman in a yellow skirt and white top. Annoyed she’d slept right through her program, she reached across the table and turned the radio off. If Lurleen wasn’t here, she’d sit quietly and wait for them to go away, but Lurleen had been resting so peacefully, more so than she had in a long time. Emily hated for them to ring the bell again and wake her.

She shoved the footstool under her chair and smoothed her hair as she made her way to the door. She yanked it open to find Remmy Wilkes smiling annoyingly at her, and a young woman with red hair, so wide-eyed, it looked like her green eyes might pop right out of her head.

Before Emily could say a word, the cowbell clanged down the hall. “I’m coming.” Emily glared at Remmy, letting him know he’d better stay put. “I hope you’re happy, Remmy Wilkes; she’s awake.”

“I’m sorry to wake Miss Lurleen,” he drawled, hat in hand with that mischievous smile that said he knew Emily had been catnapping.

“If that’s Remmy, send him on back.” Lurleen’s voice was unusually clear. “And send the girl back too.” She punctuated the command with a deep sigh that could be heard all the way down the hall.

Remmy nudged the girl’s back, and she walked into the foyer with a wisp of a smile until she saw Brother’s piano and blushed like she knew all the secrets the spinet held. She was beautiful. Tall, willowy,
gorgeous long auburn hair. She moved with the grace of a dancer, and she and Remmy made quite a handsome pair, although neither of them seemed aware of it. The girl smiled tentatively, but Emily gave her a look to let her know exactly what she thought about her unwanted presence.

“Miss Emily, I’d like you to meet Nettie Gilbert. Nettie, this is Miss Emily Eldridge.” While Emily and the girl exchanged tight, barely cordial greetings, Remmy placed his hat on the rack like he owned the joint. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll look in on Miss Lurleen,” he drawled, pretending to ask for Emily’s permission. It didn’t matter that it definitely was not okay; he shifted his black bag to his other hand and gave the girl another nudge toward the hallway.

8
L
URLEEN

L
urleen unbuttoned the buttons and then loosened the tie at the neck of her nightgown. She looked away from Remmy as he pressed the stethoscope against her chest, under her breast. The young girl he brought with him looked away too, giving Lurleen an illusion of privacy. The girl seemed nice enough, although she hadn’t said much since Remmy introduced her. He moved the disk around for what seemed longer than usual.

“’Bout the same,” Remmy said, pulling her gown together. Lurleen was never the type to expect miracles. She retied the satin ribbons and nodded. He put his stethoscope in his bag, and dug his fist into his back and stretched like he was getting old before his time. “I suspect the best way to go about this is to just leave y’all to it. I’ll keep Miss Emily company until Nettie thinks she’s ready to take her on,” Remmy laughed, but the young girl didn’t seem to find him humorous.
Lurleen noticed the girl’s fingers kept moving in a funny way, but the same pattern over and over again.

Lurleen nodded at Remmy and he excused himself. “You’re nervous, Nettie.”

“No ma’am,” the girl answered before Lurleen could tell her not to be.

“You are,” she pointed to the girl’s hands. She clasped them behind her back, where Lurleen suspected she was doing the same thing.

“Runs,” she blushed. “When I’m nervous I play runs, even without a piano. They’re soothing to me . . .” Her voice trailed off. “But I noticed you have a piano,” she added hopefully.

“It’s been broken for some time now.” A little of the light left the girl’s eyes. There wasn’t any point in explaining why the piano remained silent. “Remmy says you’re a college girl in Columbia.”

“Columbia College. I’m taking a leave of absence.” The words sounded rehearsed, making Lurleen wonder if the girl was expecting. Why else would she be leaving college so suddenly? If she was in the family way, as slender as she was, she couldn’t be very far along. Surely Remmy would have mentioned that, if he knew. But, with Lurleen not long for this world, the idea of leaving Emily with this young girl was surprisingly comforting. The very idea of a baby toddling through the house, delightful.

“Where’s home, Nettie?” Lurleen asked.

“Satsuma. Alabama,” she said.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a farm community, satsuma oranges mostly. Pecans. Cotton. Corn.” She went on to give an account of her hometown that might have come from a brochure, but it was clear she was dancing around something. Maybe the child?

“And you’re what, nineteen?”

“Almost twenty-one.”

“I suppose Remmy told you all about me. That I’m dying.” She nodded solemnly, meeting Lurleen’s gaze. She liked that. Lately, most people who came to visit didn’t look Lurleen in the eye at all; even Emily had had a hard time with that. “And you understand you’re here for Emily as much as you are here for me?” Another nod.

“My sister is not easy,” Lurleen said. “And I’m no picnic either.”

“I’m not looking for a picnic,” the young girl said, “just a job and a place to stay.”

Did someone run her off without even the decency to take her to a home for expectant girls? Emily would recognize her weakness in a second, tear her apart, and Lurleen would have no peace in this world or the next. And wasn’t that what all of this hired help malarkey was really about, leaving Emily with someone who would take care of her when Lurleen was gone?

While the thought of dying alone didn’t bother Lurleen one iota and was almost comforting, the prospects of leaving Emily to that destiny tormented her.

“My sister will try to run you off like a stray dog, but I want you to promise me you won’t go.”

“I won’t let her.”

“It’s always been just the two of us, or it has been for so long; this job won’t be easy. Emily can be vexing and confounding. Overbearing too, and those are her very best qualities.” Lurleen caught her breath but barely. “Sister has a jealous streak a mile wide, so believe me when I say she will make it her job to make you quit.”

The girl stood extra straight and squared her shoulders. “I said I’d stay, and I meant it.”

“You’re young and pretty, and I’m under no delusions that you’ll be here forever. But, if you’re going to take this job, I’ll ask one more promise. After I’m gone, I want you to stay with Emily for a while. She would never admit it, but Emily is going to need you.”

“Of course, I’ll stay.” She nodded solemnly.

“Just don’t leave the second I’m dead.”

The girl’s head snapped back for a moment but her look said she had a sincere appreciation for Lurleen’s frankness, maybe even admiration. “I won’t. You have my word.”

“All right then, you’re hired.”

She looked surprised, shocked actually, which was a little disconcerting. Maybe Lurleen should have taken some more time, not hired the first person who walked through the door out of sheer desperation. But time was something Lurleen didn’t have.

“Thank you. You won’t be sorry,” the girl promised.

“I believe I won’t.”

“When shall I start?” she asked.

“Tomorrow morning, I suppose. Seven o’clock, if that’s all right with you. I can have Remmy send for your things if you like; of course I’ll cover the cost. Unless you want to go back to Columbia to fetch them yourself, say your good-b—” Lurleen’s breath was cut short. She closed her eyes and waited for the moment to pass. When she opened them, the girl was looking fearfully at her. “Don’t worry, Nettie Gilbert. I’m not dead yet. But listen to me, making this move sound so final.” Of course it was final. Death was final. “Columbia’s not so far, much closer than Alabama, that’s for sure.” Nettie didn’t laugh at Lurleen’s attempted humor.

“Sending for my things would be lovely,” Nettie said, sounding
relieved that she wouldn’t have to go back to the college. “Then I can get right to work.”

Lurleen had always loved puzzles, especially the walking, talking kind. And she took as much delight in knowing what made someone tick as she did the process of drawing them out. Odd, since Lurleen had been in her shell for so long, old long before her time. A crushing loss will do that, but that wasn’t what stole Lurleen’s youth. It was the anger she carried for so long, anger that didn’t go away when she started speaking to Emily again, that still resided in the hollow of her belly without a purpose. Carried so long, it was an immovable part of her.

“That would indeed be lovely,” Lurleen said, looking forward to puzzling out Nettie Gilbert.

E
MILY

E
mily developed her intimidating stare her first year of teaching, when she was stuck with a slow class full of hooligans. They were used to riding roughshod over everyone, much like Remmy Wilkes was accustomed to getting his fine way, but Emily could rein them in with a single look and have them shamefully contemplating their shoelaces in no time.

But what did this pissant do? He just kept yammering, laughing like he was thoroughly entertained. Even crossed his arms to show he was unaffected by her look.

“I believe it’s been a while, Miss Emily. Aren’t you about due for a checkup?” he asked.

That did it.

“Why Remmy Wilkes, it’s bad enough you practice your worthless medicine on my poor sister, while charging a pretty penny, I might add. But you have the gall to sit in my living room, drink my good tea, which I’m seeing now was a mistake to offer you, and drum up business? Well, I guess you have to pay for that fancy red car somehow,” Emily huffed.

“Miss Emily, as much as you don’t want to believe it, I do care very much for you and for Miss Lurleen,” he said, his usual condescending tone noticeably absent. “I’m a good man and a good doctor and I’d really like it, appreciate it really, if you could find it in your head and your heart to accept the fact that I’m here to help you and your sister.”

“And how do you presume to do that, when you can’t heal her?”

“There’s a lot of things I’m not in charge of, and believe me, if I could heal your sister, I would before your next heartbeat. I truly wish I could, but, at this point, it’s up to the good Lord, not me. What I can and will do is keep your sister comfortable until her time comes. I’ve promised her I would do as much, and she wants that. I know you don’t have any peace right now—”

Emily sucked in a breath and spat out the words. “There can be no peace without my sister.”

He nodded. Every pretense of highfalutin doctor gone. “But I hope you will be able to find some just the same.”

The door opened, and the young girl walked down the hallway with a smile that was meant to win Emily over. So young. So beautiful, a kernel of jealousy dug hard into Emily, making her wish she’d stopped time in its tracks that morning John came to the house to fetch Lurleen. If Emily could change anything, even the fact that Lurleen was going to die, she’d take those moments back. Change them. Do something different. Right. The memory of John’s
beautiful face was so close, the effects of what Emily did so massive, far reaching. It was too much to bear.

“Nettie,” Remmy said softly, his tone washing over Emily, bringing her back to the present.

“Dr. Wilkes,” the girl said like she was trying to maintain her distance.

“I’ll just take my tea and sit on the porch,” he said. “Let you all talk a bit.”

The girl nodded but did not watch him go. Just stood there, pocketbook in hand, looking down at her penny loafers, most likely waiting for Emily to ask her to sit. Well, at least she had manners.

“Please,” Emily said, nodding at the settee. “I guess between my sister and that nitwit doctor I’m overruled.”

The girl looked at Emily, head held high, not taking the bait. “Miss Lurleen has asked me to stay. Work for y’all, and I’m delighted. And grateful. She also says you’re going to try to run me off,” she said evenly.

Emily winced for such a brief portion of a second, she was sure the girl didn’t see. Running her off was the plan. But now, coming from this girl’s lips, it sounded more sinister than sensible.

“I promised your sister that I’d stay on, and you should know that a promise isn’t something I take lightly. I will be Miss Lurleen’s nurse, your hired help, but above all, if you let me, I will be your friend. So, you can try to make me leave, but there’s no way in—”
Hell
, Emily finished the thought for her, eyes slightly narrowed at the girl’s tenacity. “I won’t go.”

Emily nodded and waited until the girl looked her in the eye. It took a while after screwing up the courage for that little diatribe, but there they were. Sparkling eyes Emily was sure were full of secrets. She knew this because they matched her own.

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